


On Course

by RaeVan87



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bit of rough play, Briefly being tied up, F/M, Little fluff at the end, Smut, Spanking, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeVan87/pseuds/RaeVan87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a request I had: "Hi, so I was wondering if you could do a one shot with DeanxReader where they've been dating for a while and something dramatic happens (up to you) but they work it out with rough sex, but fluffy aftercare maybe? :3 if not, then it's okay ^-^"</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Course

**Author's Note:**

> I do so love requests if anyone else would like something. <3

 

**On Course**

**** _“I’ve been through Hell and beyond,_

_Running and cold for so long and now all my hope is gone”_

**On Course – Oomph!**

 

                “Dean, I said I was sorry! Just drop it, okay?” you rage, pushing passed him to leave the room.

                “I sure as Hell won’t drop it! You could have gotten yourself killed” he seethed back, grabbing your elbow and stepping between you and the door.

                It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time. You’d gotten wind that ghost was tormenting people down at the local pool and decided to take care of it yourself. It had sounded like a routine ‘salt and burn’ kind of job, but when you got there it quickly became obvious that it wasn’t just one ghost, but two. You were banged up, had a few scrapes and were slightly soggy from being thrown in the pool, but otherwise you were fine and the job was done. All in all it was a pretty regular day at the office, aside from the fact that you went on your own and not with backup. And that was the part that Dean was obviously struggling with.

                “Please tell me, Dean. What day on the job doesn’t involve the possibility of getting myself killed? Because it seems like every fucking day to me!” you spat as you yanked your elbow away and pushed him out of the way so you could leave.

                You hated being angry at him, but you hated when he treated you like a china cup instead of the hunter that you were even more. He cared about you, that much was obvious, but you knew the dangers of your job and accepted them long ago.

                Dean followed as you stormed through the halls and headed towards the gym, feeling thankful that the bunker was equipped with one. Adrenaline still pumped through you from the hunt and adding the mounting anger tensing in your muscles, you really needed to let off some steam.

                “You should have let me and Sam handle it” Dean continued gruffly, unwilling to let the argument die.

                His words stopped you dead in your tracks as you stood in the doorway to the gym. Turning to look at him you were certain there was fire in your gaze and for a moment you wished the flames would consume him too.

                “I. Can. Take. Care. Of. Myself” you punctuate through gritted teeth, feeling your hands ball up into fists at your sides.

                Even before you ran into the Winchesters you were a hunter, born in a long line of hunters and you’d been training since you could walk. On a good day you could control your fiery temper, but the moment someone implied that ‘men should handle things’ or that you couldn’t hold your own, anger uncoiled like a snake in your stomach and spread it’s rage throughout you.

                “That’s not what I meant and you know it” Dean reasoned, though the grit in his tone hadn’t abated.

                “What else could you possibly have meant?” you examine, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring daggers at him.

                He blanched, clenching and unclenching his jaw as it was clear he was trying to think up a reasonable response, though he couldn’t seem to come to one. You knew Dean, you knew that his heart was in the right place but he let his emotions get the better of him sometimes.

                It was only a few months ago that the two of you ended up in bed together. You’d both gone into it with the intentions of it being just a hot and sweaty fling, but come morning when you awoke to the surprise of Dean still being there, you knew it was something else entirely. You’d never talked about your relationship, or whatever this was, but you’d both silently seemed to fall into it none the less.

                Ever since that night, Dean had become more protective over you. Instead of fighting alongside you, he tried to keep the fight from reaching you at all. It was as charming as it was annoying. Neither of you seemed to understand how to deal with the fact that the other was constantly in danger and the gut wrenching feeling that that brought along with it. It began to be painfully clear why you’d never settled down for the ‘one-guy-one-girl’ kind of lifestyle. There was just too much to lose.

                “That’s what I thought” you finish, turning away from him and crossing the room to the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

                Dean trailed after you, though the fight was clearly winding out of him. He watched you take a few swings as he leaned up against a nearby pillar.

                “Follow through with your punches, don’t swing from the side” he commented, watching you carefully.

                You rolled your eyes, trying your best to ignore him standing there.

                “You’re not bracing your wrist, keep your arm level with your hand or you’re going to…”

                “Dammit!” you shout as your wrist buckles against the bag.

                “I told ya” he teased delicately, quirking a half smile.

                “Maybe if you let me hunt once and awhile I wouldn’t be so out of practice” you throw back at him, shaking the pain out of your arm.

                Hurt crossed over his face and you regretted the words instantly. This was another reason you didn’t do relationships, your extreme lack of tact and your inability to control yourself from saying things that you shouldn’t.

                “You want some practice? Alright… spar with me then” he said suddenly, pushing away from the pillar to come stand a few feet in front of you.

                “I’m not going to fight you, Dean” you sigh, massaging the last bits of pain from your wrist.

                “Why, afraid I’ll hurt you?” he tested, holding his hands out at his sides. He was goading you and you knew it, trying to get your back up enough for you to retaliate.

                He knew you well. It worked.

                You swung wide at him, not so much intending to hit him as much as letting him know you accepted his challenge. He easily swept your hand away and stepped back, slipping off his flannel shirt and casting it aside. Stretching his arms in front and behind him the thin fabric of his t-shirt strained and he smirked like he knew you were watching. You took your jacket off and rolled your shoulders, bouncing on the balls of your feet and circling him slightly, trying not to lose focus.

                “You just going to dance or you going to make a move?” he pressed, matching your movements but keeping his body loose instead of poised like you.

                You struck forward with the palm of your left hand, which again he swatted away but barely had time to duck before your right hand lashed out, just missing the side of his head. His eyebrow kinked as if telling you that he knew you could better.

                Lunging at him again you aim several more blows to his torso, which he managed to avoid. Switching tactics you stretch and kick the back of his right leg, catching it just enough to knock him down onto his knee. Poising a kick to his chest he shifts and catches your calf, grabbing your leg and pushing it to the side to throw you off balance. You stumble but regain your footing just as he comes at you. You throw your shoulder into his stomach, launching the both of you backward. Dean hits the ground hard and you roll off him to your feet, standing over him smugly.

                “Not much of a dance partner” you jest, nudging him with your foot.

                “Don’t get cocky” he replies, grabbing your ankle and dragging you off balance, causing you to tip to the floor. Within an instant he’s on you, pinning your arms at your sides with his knees and smiling down at you triumphantly as he straddles your body.

                “See what happens?” he scolds playfully, pinning you perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary.

                You wiggle and try to throw him off, unwilling to admit defeat just yet, but you have little leverage and your frame is much smaller than his. His muscular legs keep your arms nearly completely immobile, leaving his hands free to smooth the hair out of your face.

                “The second you let me up Dean Winchester, your ass is mine” you threaten, still struggling under his weight while trying to keep a straight face.

                “Oh no, I think I like you this way” he muses, staring down at you beneath him and licking his lips. There was a dark side to Dean; sometimes it frightened you, sometimes it aroused you. Currently it was a mixture of both.

                “And what way is that?” you asked, doing your best to keep your tone measured and even.

                Dean only grinned wider and you felt your pulse quicken as you stared at him expectantly.

                With a quick movement he grabbed your arm and flipped you onto your stomach in a maneuver that was so flawlessly performed you couldn’t help but feel like this wasn’t the first time he’d employed it. The thought was quickly chased away as he scooped up your hands and forced them behind your back, holding your wrists firmly in one of his hands. A flicker of panic raced through you as you he grabbed one of the nearby skipping ropes and started lacing it around your hands. Your hunter instincts screamed at you to struggle and get free while the other half of you was elated by the change of events. The argument all but forgotten you found yourself nibbling at your lip with anticipatory excitement.

                Your hands bound tightly behind you, Dean grasps either side of your waist and lifts you to your knees, your face still pressed against the mat on the floor. His left hand is gripping your waist while his right drags delicately over your backside, palming it and giving it a squeeze. Controlled, slow movements of his thumb circle towards your core and the fabric of your jeans becomes an unwelcomed barrier between him and you. As his thumb runs over the length of your slit you inhale sharply, squeezing your eyes shut and grinning to yourself.

                Pushing your knees apart he moves between your legs, his thumb still trailing up and down over your sex and you feel the arousal swelling within you.

                “You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes, you know that?” he breathes, his voice deep and husky.

                You open your eyes and glance over your shoulder to see him licking his lips again, staring down at the curve of your ass like he was barely restraining himself from tearing into it like a piece of meat. The almost animalistic expression set on his face sent a wave of heat over you and you trembled.

                Sliding his hand away from your sex and back to your ass he rubs it a few times before laying a satisfying smack down upon it. You gasp from the sudden action but barely stifle the moan as it leaks to your lips.

                A quiet chuckle falls from his mouth and you bite your lip, anticipating the next blow. A second smack connects with your backside and heat rushes to the site where his hand lay, gently rubbing over you preparing you for another. The third has you panting, feeling the dampness collecting between your legs. The fourth has you crying out his name in a plea for him to give you something more.

                Reaching around the front of you he unfastens the button of your jeans, dragging the zipper down and letting his fingers graze over your confined sex underneath. Grasping the sides of your pants he eases them over your hips, hooking onto your panties pulling them both off you with his eyes trailing their progress with hungry determination. Moving to the side, he slips them off your legs and leaves them in a crumpled heap as hands instantly find you again, raking over your thighs and back to the bare flesh of your ass. His calloused hands knead at your backside as his thumbs rub the crease between your sex and thighs and you are nearly vibrating with pent of desire.

                A long, contented sigh rolls out of your mouth as his middle and pointer fingers slip between your folds and run through the accumulating wetness. His eyes are locked onto your face, savoring the expression of pleasure that blankets it and a growl rumbles somewhere deep in his chest. The soft precision of his touch rolls over your clit, gliding around it in deft circles and hitting your sweet spot with every movement.

                Passionate tension coils like a tightly wound spring in your stomach, increasing with every steady motion of his expert fingers and you squeeze your eyes shut again. Your body rocks against his hand in perfect unison with his agonizingly slow pace. His other hand smoothed over your ass again, gliding up over the curve and along your back until his fist wove into your hair.

                “Look at me” he all but growls, pulling your head back slightly with his hand tangled in your hair.

                You lift your head off the mat, gazing over your shoulder at him as his glares down at you. His jaw clenched tightly and his chest heaved with every breath he took. Those full lips of his trembled, much as they did when he was angry, but you knew it wasn’t rage that had him quaking, it was the struggle to restrain himself.

                “Dean…” you sigh breathily, staring at him with all the desire you could muster.

                At the word he seems to lose all control, pulling his fingers from your folds to unfasten his own jeans, hurriedly pulling them and his boxer briefs down only to his knees to release his solid member. The sight of it was something to behold. Slightly larger than average and thick enough to fulfill your every want, his cock glistened with the first few drops of pre-cum on the tip and you shudder at the mere memory of all the satisfaction that it had given you in the past.

Grasping at the bonds around your wrists he pulls you into a kneeling position and unties the rope with suspicious skill. The moment your hands are free he pushes you forward, laying a forceful hand on your back so your chest and cheek were pressed against the mat.

                Forgoing the graciousness of delicately preparing you, he presses his cock between your folds and delves down into you, eliciting a cry of a both pain and delight. He moans appreciatively as your walls hug tightly around his nearly overwhelming girth and he laces another sharp smack upon your backside.

                You gasp in delight and brace yourself on your elbows as his pelvis slams repeatedly against you. His hip bones delivering punishing blows hard enough that you’re certain there will be bruises in the morning but you revel in the exquisite pleasures it was giving you now.

                His grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back and forcing you to up into his lap as your ass bounces against his thighs and you’re repeatedly impaled upon him.

                “You drive me so crazy” he groans again as his fervent lips find your neck and he peppers you with crazed kisses.

                Bracing yourself against his thigh with one hand, you stretch the other behind you to grab at his hair, dragging your fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head, feeling the sweat already seeping through.

                Reaching down he pulls your shirt and sports bra over your head and you shiver at the cold air caresses your skin. His fingers slip around your sides and under your arms as his hands find your breasts and cup them, easing the jolt of each thrust as they bounced. His thumb and forefinger twirl your nipples, sending shocks of ecstasy down your stomach and into your already humming sex.

                You bite down and exhale hard as you can feel your climax drawing near. His member strokes at all of your most sensitive areas and his lips and fingers continue to work your flesh. The combination has your spiraling out of control. You feel your sex begin to squeeze tighter around him as your orgasm builds from your toes and rolls through you like an earthquake, slowly at first and increasing intensity as it travels through you. Clenching your fingers against his scalp as you desperately seek something to hang on to, you cry out his name in praise.

                His breathing becomes gruff and labored and his movements erratic as he laces a few final grueling blows against your backside, pressing himself deep within you to unload his seed with a drawn out, gratified sigh.

                Wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin against your shoulder, you stay locked in his embrace as you both steady your breathing, feeling no sense of urgency to move from one another. The curve of his body molds against your back as if he desired as much of you touching him as possible and even through the fabric of his t-shirt you can feel the heat of his skin seeping through.

                He rubs his thumb absently back and forth over your stomach and kisses gently at your shoulder and the change in his demeanor is palpable. You sigh and cover his hand with yours, feeling the weight of the silence between you and wishing you knew what to say to ease it.

                This was something that you were still getting used to, how there seemed to be two sides of Dean and how those two sides never really coincided. Dean was either the rough-and-tumble type or the kind and gentle lover; there was never a mix of the two.

                Turning to catch his eye you smile at him, pleased to see him smile back.

                “That was pretty great, right?” he boasted with a smile.

                You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Don’t get cocky” you grinned back, stealing his line from earlier.

                Leaning your head back against his shoulder you close your eyes and for the moment it’s easy to forget the dangers that lay behind and the ones still ahead of you. You sigh a quiet laugh, realizing that this peaceful moment was the product of both your tempers getting the better of you.

                But it sure was one hell of a way to settle an argument.


End file.
